"Magistrate, the Heiress orders your presence," a girl bearing the Heiress's emblem on a band around the arm said as Kymalin stepped out of the dining hall.

Kymalin's stomach twisted. Did the Heiress find out about Malve already? Was Kymalin going to be executed now? A sigh blew out of her nose. Whatever. She followed the girl as they wove through tents and day patrols, aiming for the huge, brightly-colored tent in the middle of the camp. The Heiress's tent. The silence around the tent was welcome—expected, even. Nobody was allowed to go in without being summoned. A light snort rumbled in Kymalin's throat. Who would want to go in, anyway? The last person who did that ended up as a mutilated corpse that Kymalin had to dispose of in the sea.

What a hassle it was.

Kymalin inhaled. Her heart decided it was time for another drumming session. Calm down. The Heiress granted Kymalin an audience just to ask her if she felt like taking a mission or two. The last time the Heiress sent her out on a mission was...

Kymalin shook her head again, dismissing the memory that surfaced along with her recent thoughts. What happened in that graveyard in Gulstead was something no one should know. If they did, everyone would lose their respect for her. In fact, Kymalin might lose more than respect if the Heiress heard about it.

Spared by the Virtakios. Kymalin refused to accept that she was indebted to the Virtakios for letting her live during their fight. Why would Xanthy spare her? Kymalin was so close to getting the Virtakios that day. Why must Xanthy make it harder?

A sigh escaped her lips. Why was the Heiress fixated on that girl anyway? Xanthy was unremarkable in every sense.

Still, Kymalin, like the Heiress, hated it that she was now indebted to the Virtakios for sparing her life. Being indebted was a weakness. People could manipulate her to give them what they wanted. The Heiress had been right in keeping people indebted to her instead so she could play with their moral judgement later on.

The Heiress certainly didn't want any of her people to be indebted to anyone.

The servant girl stopped in front of the Heiress's tent and gave Kymalin a brief bow. She watched the girl skip past the haze of tents back to where they came. Her heart wrenched. Let the child enjoy her free days. They were numbered.

Kymalin turned back to the tent and lifted the flap, revealing an orderly room with grass for a floor and a dome of colorful cloth for a ceiling. A short but stout shelf brimmed with books and other...strange gadgets. She strode towards the single-seater couch directly opposite it. Past the couch was a wooden desk littered with sheaves of parchments stacked on top of each other as well as a strange contraption that reminded Kymalin of a brewing press.

Seated on an ornamented chair behind that desk was the Heiress, herself.

The Heiress looked the same from where Kymalin had seen her last. Her brown hair was still stuck in a bland, strict bun, with some shorter locks framing her high forehead and delicate, round face. She wore no paint on her face, showing off her pale lips and freckled cheeks.

Her uniform glinted black against the colors of her tent. Golden chains hang past her right shoulder before ending somewhere underneath her arm. A stuffy undershirt peeked from the edge of her high collar. At least ten different pins glinted from her right chest, just atop a slit of a pocket in her coat.

Kymalin approached the desk and dropped to one knee in salutation. "You called, Heiress?" she said, keeping her voice even and formal.

The Heiress said nothing—a custom that tells Kymalin that it's fine to stand up. Silence reigned on the tent as she did. Only the howl of the wind shuffling the tents in a loud rustle of fabric could be heard. Random twittering sounds from non-existent birds rang from Repta's outdoor simulation spell. Kymalin bored her eyes at the mechanism by the Heiress's desk where a liquid ran from different tubes and vials before dropping into a smaller vessel.

"Interesting, isn't it?" The Heiress's hollow voice snapped Kymalin's attention to her. The top of the Heiress' head was visible from Kymalin's vantage point standing up.

The Heiress leaned forward and brought her gloved hands together atop the empty space on her desk. Perhaps, that's what that space was for? Kymalin could never be sure.

Kymalin kept her stare passive and her face barren. If the Heiress detected any change in her expression, it would immediately prompt a question about what Kymalin was currently thinking. She knew what would happen if she started lying.

The Heiress plucked the small vessel from the mechanism's one end and gave it a light sniff. The sigh of relief that escaped the Heiress's lips was enough to set Kymalin's nerves on edge. "Do you know why you're here?" the Heiress asked

"No," Kymalin blurted. She resisted tapping her foot against the grass—a thing she knew she was prone to doing when she was nervous. If she could will her sweat to go back where they came from on her skin, she probably would've.

The Heiress chuckled, setting the small vessel back to its original place. "It has come to my attention that you have been looking into the Narfalk incident more than you keep your attention to circling the perimeter at night. Do you have an explanation?"

Kymalin swallowed the potion flavor that turned bitter in her mouth. "I was curious because no one is telling me anything about that incident," she said, which was partially true. The real reason was...questionable. "I suspect the Sovereign has made her move since the other side is too scattered to strike now."

The Heiress nodded slowly. "You are correct in some points," she clicked her tongue and smoothed her hands atop her desk. "We confirmed that the Sovereign, indeed, has razed Narfalk to the ground. Getting an army from there will be impossible now. We are currently standing at the disadvantaged half of the island, with only the Sprites and the Nature fairies to help us. Do you know why?"

"Because that means that the Sovereign has captured Alkara, Helinfirth, Narfalk, Cardina, and Peltra?" Kymalin said, piecing every information she overheard Malve tell the other Magistrates. "We can get more half-bloods to join our army if that's what you want. Clearly the water sprites are of limited use to us now."

The Heiress grinned, her normal, white teeth seemingly elongating into fangs. "Desara is not useless to us, not now," she traced lazy circles on the wood. "In fact, with what the current reports are telling me, it seems like they have gotten stronger."

Kymalin allowed her eyebrows to knit. Confusion was an emotion they were allowed to express in the Heiress's presence. "Stronger? How?"

"The Soulcleanser has been retrieved lately, I'm sure you know that," the Heiress tapped a finger against the wooden desk in an irregular beat. "It's the very same thing I sent you to retrieve in Akaron when the Virtakios miraculously unearthed it."

Oh, gods. Here it comes. Kymalin lowered her eyes as the Heiress continued. "Not only did you let the throne slip from your fingers, but you also have the audacity to show up here empty-handed," the Heiress' anger turned her voice scratchy and hoarse. "Do you have any idea what opportunity you've let slip through your fingers?"

"Do we even need the throne?" Kymalin blurted. Oh, gods. She should stop talking back. The Heiress's eyes narrowed as Kymalin decided to push forward. "You said that the Water Sprites are growing stronger. Shouldn't they be able to fight in the war now more than ever? We do not need the throne, Peredeira."

The Heiress, as soon as Kymalin called her by her ancient name, leaned back against her chair. "You do have a point, banshee," she wiggled a finger in the air between them. "Repta and Trisa are out there, doing their best to expand our forces before the Sovereign gets to them. Sylfior is ensuring that we wouldn't die by securing trade routes and controlling the merchants. Malve is currently inside waiting to report to me and he will have to go out soon as well."

Kymalin removed her eyes from the Heiress's desk and instead turned it towards the bright colors on the fabric of the tent. "You're the only one left," the Heiress continued. Kymalin had to tamp down the feeling like the Heiress called her here because there really wasn't anyone but her. "Better not fail me this time."

"The new recruits needed training—"

"Do they?"

Kymalin pursed her lips. The Heiress's tone wasn't friendly or forgiving. She has spoken out of turn.

"Answer me," the Heiress beckoned, raising her hand. A yelp rang from her throat as invisible forces wrenched her chin up so her eyes could look straight into the Heiress. This power... "Do they?" the Heiress asked again. The third time the Heiress asks a question and Kymalin's head would fly off her neck. The Heiress made sure everyone knew that.

Kymalin shook her head despite the forces wrapping underneath her chin. "N-no."

"Good," the Heiress lowered her hand. The force gripping Kymalin's chin died with it as well. "Retrieve the Soulcleanser."

Kymalin massaged her neck as if making sure it was still there. "Why are you still after it?"

The Heiress's eyes hardened like the quarries from Avalora. "Have you seen what thrones we have right now?" she ran circles against her temples with a sigh. "Avalora wouldn't give us theirs after some vermin made an attempt to steal it from the Temple. There is also that issue of having what was ours stolen from under our noses. I haven't made peace with who I was going to make pay for it."

Please be Malve. Please be Malve.

"Oh?" The Heiress raised an amused eyebrow as she turned to Kymalin. "Malve? Why...do you have something against our prized ally?"

Prized ally, my ass. Kymalin schooled her face back into a flat, inexpressive one. "No, Heiress," she said. "I was merely thinking that Malve would have gotten wind of a plan to sneak in even before the thieves have an opportunity to."

The Heiress ran a finger across her lips. She seemed to be entertaining the idea. "Do you know why I insisted on keeping Malve around?"

"Because of his information?" Kymalin cocked her head to one side.

"Because of his resources," the Heiress said. "The things he says to me I already know two weeks beforehand. The only thing that I want from him is his father's wealth and his family's influence. You don't know how much power the Ventora family holds on the underground market for years now."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you two aren't that different from each other," the Heiress twined her hands and scratched her chin with her pointer finger, inclining her head. "Both of you don't have much time to live unless you bring me something worthwhile—something that will change the course of this war and bring it back to our favor."

Kymalin didn't speak. Well, it was delightful to know that Malve wasn't that much of a bigshot he dressed to be. But then again, the Heiress did compare Kymalin to that lowlife and claimed she was in the same boat as him.

"You will bring me Desara's throne that will convince Avalora to give us control over the Earthshaker," the Heiress ordered in a flat tone. "Unless you don't want your brother to be freed from his curse? I'm sure you know that you don't need to hide your motives behind joining Cardovia."

Kymalin felt like she had been slapped. The Heiress knew what she wanted. How low of her to use it against Kymalin now?

"Well?" the Heiress hummed. "What do you say?"

"Will you free my brother after I get you the chalice or after this war?" Kymalin clenched her fists at her sides. "I need to be sure."

The Heiress smiled at her. "If you bring me the chalice," she paused before levelling her dark gaze with Kymalin's. "I will end this war before you could even blink."

What did the Heiress mean by that? Why was she being so cryptic? Kymalin bowed. That's not any of her concern, right? "You can count on me, Heiress," she said. Gods, she hoped she really could. "I will bring that throne to you."

The Heiress didn't reply again. Kymalin was dismissed. She straightened and headed to the opening of the Heiress's tent. Her fingers curled against the flap and were about to raise it up when the Heiress spoke once more. "Do you know the other reason I keep Malve around?" she asked.

"Why?" Kymalin dared a look back at the Heiress who now grasped the small vessel containing a bright purple liquid. She watched the Heiress raise it to her lips. The leader of Cardovia tilted her head back and drank the entire thing in one gulp.

"Because like Malve," the Heiress wiped at her lips with the back of her gloved hand before locking eyes with Kymalin. "I always get what I want."